


World's edge

by num0ur1que



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1310917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/num0ur1que/pseuds/num0ur1que
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wakes up one morning with a single decision running through his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World's edge

**Author's Note:**

> -whacks head on table- I tried okay? ...motherfuck this shit is sad ;~;

He woke up in the morning that day, eyes bleary as he regained control of his senses, groping the bed stand for his glasses. 

The ever-present scent of baking wafted through the room, but something about it was different, comforting even. It no longer disgusted him, only left this small spot of saddened warmth in his chest, reminding him that it wasn't the cake that he should be thinking over today. 

Slipping out reluctantly from under his childishly storybook, prank-meister sheets, he stretched and stood, shuffling over to his drawers and rifling calmly through them for something to wear. Finding a pair of dark-blue jeans was easy, as well as finding a tee and grey hoodie to match. He had been given the choice between a green ghostbusters hoodie and the grey one, but he felt that the cloudy colour was a better match for the mood of the day. 

He tried to tell himself that he would wear the other hoodie one day, but the day never would come. How could he darken one of the last happy memories he had? 

It was best to leave things like that untouched. 

Slipping quickly into his clothing to avoid the cold chill of midwinter Washington, he made his way downstairs after running a brush through his hair, the scent of batter growing stronger until it was almost unbearable when he entered the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs. 

Dad was standing at the kitchen counter, busily mixing a bowl of what looked to be cookie batter. On the table, already nicely laid out for him was a muffin and some milk, an optional apple laid on the side, as if a Betty Crocker muffin wasn't enough to usually curb the raven-haired boy's appetite. 

He took a seat at the table, picking up the muffin with steady hands, taking a bite, washing it down with a swig of milk. 

"Did you have a good night's sleep, son?" 

He looked up to see Dad pouring the batter into a brownie pan (so they weren't cookies after all, he guessed), slipping the pan into the preheated oven when he was done. 

He tugged gently at a string on his hoodie with the hand that wasn't occupied at the moment, giving a slight nod as he took another bite. "Yeah, hehe. It wasn't all that bad."

"I'm proud of you son, when I was your age, I had difficulties getting a good night's sleep. That is," His Dad gestured to the oven. "Until I started baking."

He just nodded, memorising the sound of his Dad's voice, his slight, parental smile, everything he could. It was funny how much you missed when you took everything for granted.

He also refrained from mentioning how his sleep had been blank, grey and dreamless. 

Quickly downing the rest of his breakfast without tasting any of it, he stood, putting his plate and glass in the sink with a strange sense of purpose he had never really felt before. 

There was an even stranger moment when he felt himself wrapping his arms around his Dad tightly from behind, burying his face into the shoulder of his only guardian with that same strange sense of purpose. 

His Dad was clearly surprised, he could tell by the way that the guardian's muscles tensed slightly at the unfamiliar, alien touch before he gave him an awkward hug in return. It was okay though, the teen hadn't really been expecting to do that himself.  
"Thanks Dad." He breathed in the scent of his father one more time, committing that to mind as well, before letting him go. His face was surprisingly blank, expressionless for what had just happened. "I love you."

He stepped away, giving his surprised guardian a last look, before he turned and left the kitchen, picking up and slipping on his backpack and black sneakers at the front door. 

Turning the door handle, he opened it, stepping out into the cold and rainy Washington morning. He then set off briskly down the street towards the freeway with only a single glance back at his childhood home. 

Looking back any more would only make the pain grip his heart even tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't say I didn't warn you. Are you crying yet? You should be. Q~Q
> 
> Anyway, I'll start working on the second chapter of this soon. Hopefully it'll be out in the next few weeks.


End file.
